


our souls aren't strangers

by everythingislove (straykid)



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Alternate Universe - Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2019-02-06 04:55:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12810072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/straykid/pseuds/everythingislove
Summary: The six times Isak and Even can't get it together, and the one time they already are.Or: a childhood friends and soulmates au





	our souls aren't strangers

**Author's Note:**

> i didn't expect to write this at all, let alone have it turn out to be 10k, but i ended up getting a little carried away while writing haha. i hope you all enjoy! (p.s thank you to my amazing beta josie xx)

_i. Autumn, 2003_

When Even’s mamma first told him that he would be going to a playgroup to make friends, he was thrilled. He assumed that it would be a group of other _big kids_ like him, all eager to watch Disney films and be actors in the movies he loves to make.

He didn't expect to be the only six-year-old in a room full of toddlers.

“Mamma!” Even clings to her legs, giving her a desperate look. “I don't want to stay here! They're all too little!”

“Even,” Sara shushes him softly. “It’s only for an hour, and they’re not too much younger than you.”

“But—”

“Be nice,” she smooths his hair back off his forehead, bending down to press a kiss to his temple. “Mor and I will pick you up shortly. I’m certain that there are plenty of kids here who will be more than happy to play with you.”

Even frowns, wiping away the sticky residue of her lipstick.

“If you don't have a fun time, you never have to come back again,” she promises. “Just give it a chance.”

“I’m not going to have any fun at all,” Even decides, stubbornly stomping his way over to an empty table. He can't believe how unfair his mamma is being, forcing him to play with a bunch of babies.

He huffs out a breath, yanking the container of crayons and a coloring book at the center toward him. Flipping through the book, he settles on a picture of a dinosaur, and pulls out a green crayon. He’s just started to neatly color in the dino’s head when he hears a soft noise from behind him. Even pauses, glancing over his shoulder, and can't help but yelp at the sight.

There’s a small boy with blonde curls and chubby cheeks standing uncomfortably close to him.

“What are you doing?” Even blurts. The boy doesn't respond—his wide eyes focused on Even. “You shouldn't stare at people. It's not nice.”

The boy doesn't even blink.

Even glances from the picture in front of him back to Isak, gesturing warily. “Do you like dinosaurs?”

“That's a T-Rex,” the boy tells him, pointing a stubby finger at the small arms.

Even nods, impressed that someone so tiny could know something like that. “Yeah. T-Rexs are my favorite kind of dinosaurs,” he pauses. “Do you know your name?”

“I’m Isak,” the boy—Isak—tells him eagerly. “I’m gonna be four in June!”

“Isak,” Even tests out the name, and decides that it fits his cherub face. “I’m Even, and I’m six.”

Isak seems to take Even’s words as an invitation to join him. He pulls out the small chair beside him and plops down into it, reaching for a crayon.

Even doesn't even stop him as he starts to scribble in part of the dinosaur’s leg without asking. He probably has big puppy dog eyes—the kind that always make you feel bad for scolding the source.

Really, Isak doesn't seem all that bad for a little kid. He’s a little oblivious, sure, but he’s smarter than Even’s little cousin who’s about the same age. Maybe he wouldn't be such a bad friend after all, but there’s only one way to he certain.

“I have two mammas,” he tells Isak. It’s the reason he hasn't made too many friends at school yet. Some people refuse to accept that Fate can choose two women (or two men, for that matter) to be soulmates.

Isak’s brows furrow, and Even’s heart drops to his stomach. It looks like he was wrong about finding a possible friend in Isak. While he can't say that he’s surprised, he’s definitely disappointed.

The younger boy worries his bottom lip between his teeth, his face contemplative. Finally, he asks, “you don't have a pappa?”

Even’s grip tightens around the crayon just a bit too hard. It snaps in half in his grip, and he sets the broken pieces down lightly on the table. “No, I don't have a pappa. Just two mammas.”

“And—and they have this?” Isak shoves his wrist up into Even’s face, showing him the blank skin. It’s where everyone’s mark appears on their eighteenth birthday.

“Mhmm,” Even murmurs, leaning back so he doesn't accidentally get knocked in the face. “They’re soulmates.”

Isak retracts his wrist, and surprises Even with a beaming grin. “Cool!”

“Cool?” Even repeats.

Isak doesn't respond, merely resumes his coloring. It’s all outside of the lines and a stark contrast from Even’s own neatly colored area, but he looks so happy that Even can't even feel bothered.

“Do you want to be friends?” Even asks, watching him closely.

“Yeah!” Isak drops the crayon, quickly turning to face Even. His smile takes over nearly his entire face, all of his baby teeth on display. “Bestest friends!”

And so it begins.

_-_

_ii. Summer, 2010_

Even has come to consider Isak his project of sorts.

His best friend is currently sitting across the table from him, obnoxiously blowing bubbles into his milk. There are other customers at the diner openly glaring, but Isak pays them no mind. If they weren't out in public, it might have been endearing. As they are, it’s absolutely mortifying.

“You know, you're eleven now.” Even says, trying not to sound too chastising. He knows how much Isak hates it when Even corrects him on things.

Isak lifts his gaze, letting the straw slip from his lips. “I know. My birthday was last week.”

“Right,” Even shifts in his seat. “Maybe you should start behaving a little more… grown up.”

Isak frowns, leaning toward Even. His elbows are on the table, and he clumsily knocks over the pepper. “Why would I want to do that?”

Even shrugs mildly, reaching over to set the pepper upright again. As a teenager himself, he's started to age out of a lot of the things Isak still finds amusing. Two summers ago, he would have giggled along with him and used the whipped cream from his milkshake to smear a faux mustache on his face. Now, he's maturing and knows better.

“It’s how the world works,” he says lamely. “The older we get, the more proper we have to act. Otherwise people won't like you.”

Isak makes a noise of contempt. “I don't care if people like me. I don't like anyone besides you, anyways.”

Even’s cheeks flush. “Isak,” he murmurs, “you shouldn't say stuff like that.”

“Why not? It's true!” Isak insists, flopping back in his seat. He has a grumpy expression on his face now, like he's upset that Even doesn't feel the same.

“What about your parents?” Even reminds, and then gestures down toward his wrist. “What about your soulmate? You'll hurt their feelings.”

Isak instinctively covers the inside of his right wrist with his left hand, grimacing. “I don't want a soulmate,” he says, a touch too loudly. An elderly couple a few tables down from them gasps.

“Yes you do,” Even says quickly.. “Don't be silly.”

“No I don't,” Isak shakes his head insistently. “I only want you.”

Even’s heart does a strange little fluttering thing, but he tries not to focus on that. “You're only saying that now because you still think that girls have cooties.”

“They do—”

“One day,” Even continues, picking a fry off of his plate, “you'll be very happy to have a soulmate. I can't wait to meet mine.”

Isak scowls down at his napkin. “You still have to wait a long time.”

“Only four years or so,” Even corrects. “And besides, your soulmate is always worth the wait.”

“Not always,” Isak mutters, so quiet that Even is sure he’s misheard him.

“What do you mean?” He asks, face crumpling with concern. He knows that Isak has mentioned some family issues recently, but he can't imagine Marianne and Terje having major problems. “Did something happen?”

“I want to go home,” Isak says abruptly, suddenly squirming his way out of the booth.

“Issy,” Even starts.

“I want to go home,” he repeats, eyes brimmed with tears.

“Alright,” Even resigns. There’s no point in trying to reason with Isak when he gets worked up. “But you know that you can talk to me about anything, right?”

Isak nods silently. He still won't meet Even’s gaze.

Even stands up, resting a hand on Isak’s back. It’s a natural gesture—something he’s always done when Isak gets a little too overwhelmed. They’ve been best friends for eight years, and he's come to learn that the little gestures go a long way with Isak.

He starts to walk him home, their shoes scoffing against the pavement. He can't understand why Isak got so upset at the mention of soulmates; it’s a natural part of life, after all. Only a very small part of the population dare to go against fate, and those who do tend to end up miserable.

The only reason for Isak’s upset that he can think of is that Isak believes he’s going to be replaced. It's ridiculous, frankly. He would never abandon his friendship with Isak, not even for his soulmate. They’re best friends until the end of time, and he figures that Isak might just need a reminder of that promise.

“You know,” Even says, “when I meet my soulmate, you'll still be my best friend in the world.”

Isak sniffs, glancing up at him from the corner of his eye. “Really?”

Even nods. Judging by his response, he figures he’s got it right. “Really. You can love more than one person.”

“I don't want you to love them more than me,” Isak says pitifully.

“That will never happen,” Even says firmly, and he means it. He means it more than anything he’s ever said before. “You're my best friend, and that means that half of my heart belongs to you.”

“Half of it?” Isak’s eyes widen. “That's a lot.”

Even moves his arm up, letting it drape around Isak’s shoulders. It’s easy with their current height difference, because even though Isak is tall for his age, Even is on the brink of puberty and hitting major growth spurts.

“Half of my heart belongs to you,” he says, “and someday the other half will belong to my soulmate.”

Isak presses his lips together. He’s still not happy, but he’s not close to tears anymore, so Even considers it a victory. “Do you think I’ll have a soulmate like you?”

Even pauses. “What do you mean a soulmate like me?”

Isak tenses, his skin flushing. He’s embarrassed, which confuses Even, because Isak is almost never bashful around him. “Nevermind.”

“Okay,” Even says slowly, not bothering to hide how lost he is. “You're not upset now, right?”

“No,” Isak licks his chapped lips, instinctively leaning into Even’s side. “Do you want to play FIFA when we get to mine?”

Even smirks. “I don't know, do you think you can handle getting your ass kicked?”

“I’m the master of FIFA!” Isak yelps, giving him an offended look. He steps away from him, huffing. “Nobody kicks my ass. I’ll kick _your_ ass.”

“You're only eleven,” Even teases, “you shouldn't be using foul language.”

Isak responds with an equally foul gesture, and sticks his tongue out for good measure.

Fondness spreads through Even’s chest.

-

_iii. Spring, 2012_

Even is fifteen the first time his mammas leave him home alone for the weekend. They’re visiting his (very old) great uncle in Drammen, and after two weeks of him trying to convince them that he didn't need to come along, they had caved in.

As soon as he watches their car turn out of their driveway, he sends Isak a quick text inviting him over,

Their original plan was to spend the evening studying, and then really take advantage of being free of parental supervision by watching some R-rated action movie Isak wanted to see. Only twenty minutes into their study session, however, Isak began complaining.

“I hate school,” Isak groans, shoving his worksheet away. He slumps down against Even’s kitchen table, pressing his forehead against the wood. “When will I ever need to know the square root of 64?”

Even peers at Isak over the screen of his laptop. “It's eight.”

Isak lifts his head, frowning. “What?”

“The square root of 64 is eight,” Even says with a smirk, flicking a piece of eraser his way. “If you think that's hard, wait until you start learning Algebra.”

“Fuck,” Isak lets out another long groan, forcing himself upright again. He grabs his pencil and paper, writing in the answer. As soon as he’s finished, he repeats, “I hate school.”

“You just said that,” Even reminds, “and it's not even true. You enjoy science.”

“Science is _interesting,_ ” Isak says pointedly. “You get to run experiments and think about things factually.”

Even shrugs. “You call that interesting, and I call it hell.”

“That’s because you only care about your films and Baz Luhrmann,” Isak scrunches his nose up.

“Not true,” Even says, offering him a cheesy grin. “I care about you, too.”

A blush creeps up Isak’s neck, all the way up to his hairline. He twists his pencil between the tip of his index finger and thumb, appearing deep in thought. “Can I ask you something?”

Even quirks a brow. “If it's another homework answer, no.”

“It’s not,” Isak assures. “It’s about something else. Something personal.”

“Okay,” Even says apprehensively, slowly closing his laptop. “What is it?”

“There's this person I like,” Isak begins, suddenly refusing to meet Even’s eyes. “I think I want to tell them, but I’m scared.”

It takes no small amount of effort for Even to mask his surprise. Isak tells him everything, and he’d never mentioned liking someone before. Even had no idea that Isak had started to consider people—or one particular person, apparently—with romantic interest.

“Um,” Even coughs quietly. “Well, you just have to do whatever you're comfortable with. When I told Sonja—”

“You told Sonja?” Isak asks, finally lifting his gaze. He seems caught off guard by the news, and Even suddenly realizes that he hadn't quite gotten around to sharing it with him yet.

“Shit, yeah. I told her the other day,” Even says guiltily. “I thought you knew about that?”

“No,” Isak mutters, “I didn't know about it.”

The hurt behind the words makes Even feel like an asshole.

“I’m sorry,” he knocks their feet together gently underneath the table. “I’ve been super stressed about all of my exams, and my mammas have me seeing that weird new therapist, so it just slipped my mind.”

“Okay,” Isak exhales. Even can practically see the thoughts whirling around in his head.

“So this person you like,” Even prompts, “who is it?”

Isak looks like a deer caught in headlights. His eyes bulge, and the color drains from his face. “Um.”

“You don't have to be embarrassed,” Even says. “Is it that girl you're always Skyping with?”

“Eva?”

“I guess?” Even doesn't know her name, though he probably should.

Isak laughs—forced and uncomfortable. “ _Nei._ Fuck, _nei._ Eva is a friend, just a friend.”

Even hums quietly. “Then who is it?”

Isak visibly swallows. “Guess.”

“Guess?” Even’s brows draw together. He can't remember Isak ever mentioning any other girls, and he can't seem to imagine what his type is either. “Maybe your neighbor?”

“What the fuck? She’s like, ten!”

“She is? Well… fuck, I don't know.”

“I’ll give you a hint,” Isak goes tense as he studies Even’s face closely. “It's not a girl.”

Which. Okay. Even definitely didn't see that one coming.

He doesn't _care_ that Isak likes boys—he’d be a pretty big hypocrite if he did, considering he was raised by two mothers and is decidedly pansexual himself—but the revelation still catches him off guard.

For as long as he’s known him, Isak has always made the case of being a stereotypical straight boy. He has posters of female supermodels on the walls of his room, and refuses to chime in when Even comments on a boy being attractive. As they've grown older, Isak has become more cautious of them seeming too close out in public, like he doesn’t want people assuming he’s interested in boys.

Maybe the signs were there all along, in the way that Isak never seemed entirely comfortable with his own sexuality—but then again, what thirteen-year-old is? It had taken Even until just last year before he felt confident in calling himself pan. And perhaps more importantly, it was never his business to turn Isak’s identity into a game of guesses and assumptions.

As long as Isak stays away from homophobic ideals (as he always has) then Even is more than happy to support him.

With a start, Even realizes he still hasn't responded to Isak coming out. Only a few seconds have passed, but if the worried expression on Isak’s face is anything to go by, it’s been long enough to make him feel insecure. Out of pure panic, he blurts out the first name that comes to mind.

“Is it Jonas?”

Isak sucks in a sharp breath, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. He responds with a jerky nod.

“Okay,” Even says slowly. “And you're scared to tell him because he’s your best friend, or because you think he's straight?”

“I—” Isak squeezes his eyes shut. “The first, I guess? Or both? I don't know.”

“Why don't you try letting things progress naturally?” Even offers. “You might stay just friends, or it might turn into something more. Don't tell him yet.”

Isak grimaces. “You don't think he likes me.”

“I didn't say that,” Even says. “I said that you should see if things turn into something more eventually. You're still pretty young to be thinking about having a boyfriend.”

“I’m thirteen.”

“Exactly. Real relationships don't start until high school.”

“So you don't think that I should tell him?”

“I don't think you should tell him yet,” Even corrects. “Just give yourself a little more time. You've got five years until you find your soulmate.”

“I guess,” Isak sighs dejectedly.

“Come on,” Even stands up, glancing toward the clock. “I want to take you somewhere.”

“Right now?” Isak asks skeptically. “It’s late to be going out.”

“It’s not even 21:00,” Even rolls his eyes. “You text me until at least 23:00 on school nights.”

“But it's dark,” Isak adds, standing up anyways.

“I’ll protect you from any monsters, Issy,” Even promises, tugging his jacket on. “You'll enjoy this, I promise.”

“Don't call me that,” Isak grumbles, but there's something close to endearment in his voice. Even only grins at him.

He guides him out to the garage, pulling his bike out and down the driveway. When they reach the road, he swing his leg over and settles himself onto the seat, gesturing for Isak to do the same.

“There's no way we’ll both fit on there,” Isak crosses his arms. “It defies the laws of gravity.”

Even scoots forward ever so slightly. “Better?”

“No,” Isak grumbles, but he manages to perch himself on the edge of the seat anyways. He loops his arms around Even’s torso to keep himself balanced. “Shit—we’re going to die.”

“Relax,” Even laughs, and just to irk him, picks up the pace. “Feel the wind in your hair.”

“Where are we even going?” Isak asks, his arms tightening.

“You'll see.”

The rest of the ride is silent, save for the small gasps that leave Isak each time Event takes a sharp turn. He manages to get them there without any biking mishaps, and props said bike against the fence when they arrive.

“I don't recognize this place,” Isak says unsurely.

“It’s my aunt's house,” Even says quietly, leading him to the side of the house. “Don’t worry.”

“I thought your aunt lived in Bergen?” Isak frowns, trailing behind him.

“This aunt isn't actually my aunt,” Even relents, hoping to salvage the lie. “She’s mamma’s friend from university, but they’re so close that I call her my aunt.”

“I've met most of your family. Why haven't I met her? And why haven't you mentioned her before?”  Isak questions, unconvinced.

Even lifts his hand up, pressing his index finger to Isak’s lips. “Don't ask anymore questions, alright?” The skepticism was still clear in Isak’s eyes, but he nods nonetheless. It warms Even’s heart to know that he has that much trust in him.

With a satisfied grin, Even squats down and carefully pushes open the small window. He waves for Isak to follow him as he slides inside, landing on his feet.

Isak looks around the room once he’s joined him inside, his brows furrowing. “We’re going swimming?”

Even opens his mouth to respond, but before he can, Isak quickly turns and shoves him into the pool. He can hear the splash as his best friend joins him, and manages to squint his eyes open to look at him through the water. He’s surprised to find Isak looking back.

They both surface a few seconds later, Isak gasping for air. Even can't help but laugh. “You're shit at holding your breath.”

“That's not true,” Isak says. “I’m incredible at it.”

“Really?” Even snorts. “Let’s have a contest then. Winner has to buy the other an ice cream tomorrow.”

“Deal,” Isak nods quickly, some water from his soaked hair splashing onto Even in the process.

Even glances toward the clock on the far wall. “It’s 21:21. I bet you won't even last until 21:22.”

“I’m the _master_ of—”

Even interrupts him by playfully pushing him under the surface by his shoulders, following him after taking one last breath. He opens his eyes once he’s under, and finds Isak looking back at him again.

He doesn't have time to register what’s happening before Isak leans closer, pressing their lips together in a kiss.

It feels as though the world stops spinning. The kiss is over before Even can truly realize it started, but it leaves him with butterflies in his stomach, which is entirely strange in itself. He ultimately decides that his feelings are a consequence of how unexpected the kiss was, if only to avoid thinking about what else those feelings could mean.

They resurface as soon as they break apart. Isak looks mortified, and Even is so fucking lost.

“Did you just kiss me?” He blurts, his mouth moving ahead of his thoughts.

“Only because I thought you were drowning or something! That's what they do in the movies!” Isak defends. He’s turning a bright shade of red, and it only makes Even feel more confused.

“That’s CPR, and they do that _above_ the water anyways, not—” Even stops short when he notices the small figure of a little girl standing near the edge of the pool. “Shit.”

They both stare at the girl in complete horror as she opens her mouth and wails, “Mamma!”

Busted.

“We need to go,” Even says quickly, swimming toward the edge. “We need to go right now.”

“You said this was your aunt's house!” Isak yelps, following right behind him.

“I lied,” Even pushes himself out, scrambling to slip his shoes on. “I came to this place for some kids birthday party when I was in elementary school.”

“What the hell?”

“You can be upset with me later, we have to go,” Even tosses Isak’s shoes at him, and quickly turns to climb back out the window. He wiggles his own way out, turning around to drag Isak up and safely out too.

It’s far more difficult to ride his bike now that they're both wet and frantic, but somehow they manage to get away without being caught. He’s panting by the time they pull up to his house, his heart still pounding—from the kiss, mild fear, and excursion.

Even doesn't know what to say, but luckily Isak doesn't seem to want to dwell on anything. He carefully gets off of the bike, grinning at Even.

“You lost,” Isak says.

“What?”

“I held my breath longer than you,” Isak shrugs, “so you lost. You owe me an ice cream.”

“Fuck you,” Even says with a breathless laugh, shaking his head.

(They don't talk about that kiss again for years, but Even never fails to notice the flush of Isak’s cheeks whenever the clock reads 21:21.)

-

_iv. Winter, 2015_

“Happy birthday!”

Even grunts as a force jostles his bed—no doubt a courtesy of Isak. “Fuck,” he groans, peeking an eye open. “It’s too early for this.”

“I waited until ten!” Isak defends, settling down on the edge of the bed. “But I want to know who your soulmate is.”

“It might not be someone we know,” Even reminds with a yawn, sitting up slowly. “They could be living anywhere in the world right now.”

Isak nods toward his covered wrist. “We won't know until you check.”

Even exhales. He’s eager to find out who his perfect match is too, but he’s also nervous. While almost every couple of soulmates has a thriving relationship, there are occasional errors. Deep down inside, he’s always been scared that his bipolar disorder would make him and his soulmate the one in a billion couple that couldn't last.

It’s irrational, because people with all sorts of mental health issues live happy lives with their soulmates, but it’s a fear nonetheless.

“Don't you want to know?” Isak asks, picking up on Even’s hesitation. “It's supposed to be an exciting moment.”

“It is exciting,” Even agrees, his chest tightening when he touches his sleeve. “I’m nervous, that’s all. This is a pretty huge thing.”

Isak reaches forward, placing a calming hand on his knee. “You'll always have me,” he reminds. “I’ll be your third wheel for the rest of my life.”

A laugh bubbles free from Even. “You’ll have your own soulmate in two years. You won't have to be my third wheel.”

Isak waves the comment off, rolling his eyes. “I’ll always be there to cockblock you, Even.”

“Thanks, I think?” Even snorts, looking back down at his wrist. “I guess I should probably look.”

“Not unless you're ready,” Isak pulls his hand back, setting it in his own lap. “I mean, your mark is permanent. It’s not as if you have to check it this second.”

“They don't tell you how scary it is to check in Health class,” Even murmurs, thumbing over the fabric. His skin stings underneath, bordering painful, but he knows that’s to be expected from a fresh mark. “They say it's a symbol of adulthood and all that shit, but they don't mention that you'll be fucking terrified.”

“Does it hurt?” Isak asks, seeming to take notice of Even’s grimace. “I don't want mine if it hurts.”

Again, Even can't help but smile. “What are you going to do? Call the Fates and ask them not to give you a mark because you're scared?”

“Maybe,” Isak says, before he registers the latter part of Even’s words.When he does, his lip juts out in a pout. “I’m not scared! I just don't like pain.”

“You look and sound like you're about five-years-old right now,” Even snorts, which only causes Isak’s pout to deepen. “To answer your question,” he adds, “it hurts a little bit, but it's only really bad when you touch it.”

Isak nods in understanding, his eyes settling back on Even’s wrist. “You could always leave it covered for the rest of your life.”

“I don't think that would be very fair to my soulmate,” Even nudges the edge of his sleeve slightly, wetting his lips. “It’ll be fine. Whoever it is, I’m meant to be with them.”

“And if you hate them,” Isak adds, “we can run away to some small country together.”

His words are so serious that it startles Even. He looks back at him, his lips pursed in concern, and he finds no sign on his face that he’s joking. When Isak catches him staring, he laughs nervously.

“I’m kidding,” Isak says, but it's clear that he’s not. His cheeks are stained red, and suddenly he won't meet Even’s eyes.

“Maybe we could go to Hawaii,” Even says, deciding to play along—if only to keep Isak from feeling embarrassed. “You could learn how to hula dance and make us a fortune, and I could be one of those fire tossers.”

Isak raises his gaze again. “You're too fucking lanky to be a fire tosser, you'd catch yourself on fire.”

“True,” Even manages another laugh, the tension in his shoulders letting up slightly. He feels more at ease now—Isak always seems to be able to bring him back down when things get to be too much. “I think I’m going to check it now.”

Isak tries to keep a neutral expression, but the anticipation dances in his eyes. “Okay.”

Even exhales, dipping his fingers underneath the thin fabric of his shirt. He slides his sleeve up past his wrist, angling his arm so that only he can see. And there it is, branded into his skin:

**21:21**

Even’s heart stops.

He knows exactly what the mark signifies, but he doesn't want to believe it. In fact, he’s almost certain that fate has gotten things completely wrong this time. It feels too absurd to even consider thinking about his best friend in such an intimate manner.

He loves Isak, of course. There’s not much that he wouldn't do to make him smile, and he _has_ noticed the baby fat fading from his cheeks, leaving him with an older appearance. But it’s _Isak_.

Isak who he’s known since he was still in diapers. Isak who used to make Even create fake spells to ward off the imaginary monsters living under his bed. Isak who has been a part of his life for as long as he can remember, yet had never been considered as possibly being his future soulmate.

He doesn't want to believe it at first, but just thinking of Isak has the edges of his mark glowing—confirmation that it’s not a fluke or coincidence. Isak is his soulmate.

In retrospect, there’s no one else he would rather have for a soulmate. Even has spent four years of his life in an off-again on-again relationship with Sonja, but it's always been a matter of convenience for both of them. He doesn't think that he could handle her nagging and suffocating tendencies every day for the rest of his life.

“Even!”

Even snaps out of his thoughts. He can hear his pulse in his ears, which he’s certain isn't normal. “What?”

Isak gestures toward Even’s wrist, his eyes wide and excited. “Are you going to tell me who it is? Do you know them?”

“I—” Even clears his throat. His voice is suddenly three pitches higher than normal. “I know who they are.”

“Is it—”

“It’s Sonja,” Even cuts him off, the lie spilling out before he can think it through. He says it out of desperation more than anything, and he regrets as he watches Isak’s face fall.

“Oh,” Isak says quietly. His expression has faltered, the corners of his lips dipping into a frown before he forces up a smile. “That's great, Ev.”

“It is great,” Even agrees, voice void of any enthusiasm. “It’s so great. She’s going to be happy, and it'll be… great.”

“Are you happy?” Isak asks hesitantly. “You're acting weird.”

_Is he really that transparent?_

“I’m a little overwhelmed,” Even admits, grateful that he doesn't have to lie again. Overwhelmed is an understatement for what he’s feeling. “It’s a lot, finding out who you're meant to spend eternity with.”

“At least you get to be with someone you already love,” Isak says, pressing his lips together. It’s like he’s trying to hide his disappointment, and if Even’s mind wasn't already bursting with a thousand different thoughts at once, he might have been able to focus more on what that meant.

“Right,” Even shuts his eyes briefly. He can't seem to calm down, and Isak’s presence isn't helping. “I don't want to be rude, but I’m still pretty tired. Do you think you could come back later?”

“I have to do something with mamma today,” Isak responds vaguely. The bed shifts as he stands up. “I hope you have a good birthday, though. Congratulations to you and Sonja. I’m happy for you.”

Isak is saying all the right words, but he sounds a bit like he’s holding back tears. Even is too cowardly to open his eyes and confirm it, though. He doesn't want to think about Isak being upset; let alone being upset because of him.

“Thanks,” Even says. It feels like a knife to the chest. “I’ll text you later?”

“Sure.”

The bedroom door shuts, and Even sucks in a big gasp of air. His eyes fly open, immediately refocusing on his mark. It’s still there, glowing the instant Isak pops back into his mind.

Isak is his soulmate, and he just lied to his face about it.

He’s well and truly fucked.

-

_v. Spring, 2016_

It’s a beautiful afternoon in Oslo. Spring has finally arrived, swapping out the snow for blooming flowers, and the grey skies for bright sunshine. The world becomes lively again, and Even loves it.

In an effort to immerse himself into such an ideal day, he had invited Isak on a walk through the park with him. He was in a mood from the moment he arrived, giving Even short answers and scowling at the ground as they trailed along.

“What’s your problem?” Even finally asks, unable to hold back any longer. “You look like someone shit in your cereal.”

Isak snaps his gaze toward Even, his eyes narrowing. “My problem is that soulmates are fucking stupid, and I’m sick of having the concept shoved down my throat.”

“Isak,” Even hisses, glancing around them. Luckily, there’s no one within hearing distance. It’s not as if speaking ill of soulmates is illegal, but it’s taboo and generally leads to all sorts of issues and conflicts.

“I don't care what people think,” Isak says, shoving his hands into the pocket of his sweatshirt. “I mean it. Soulmates are fucking stupid.”

“You don't even know your soulmate yet,” Even points out, trying to ignore the pang of pain in his heart. He knows that Isak can't really mean his words, but the rejection stings nonetheless.

“Exactly,” Isak nudges a pebble along with his foot. “I don't understand why some unknown force should be able to dictate who we love.”

“That's not how it works,” Even stops, and forces Isak to halt his steps too. “We choose to love our soulmates out of our own free will. Fate just guides us to them.”

“I know what our Fates textbook preaches,” Isak rolls his eyes. “I think it's bullshit.”

“Then how do you explain our marks?” Even asks.

“I’m not trying to say that soulmates don't exist, obviously they do. I’m saying that they're stupid and _shouldn't_ exist,” Isak shrugs meekly. “Don't you ever feel that way?”

“You can't ask me that,” Even says. “I mean—maybe when I was younger I felt that way, but I know who my soulmate is now. It's different.”

“Right. Sonja,” Isak poorly tries to hide his distaste as he says her name.

“Sonja,” Even agrees, digging his nails into his palms. He’s lying through his teeth and he hates it. “It changes things. You'll see.”

“You'll see,” Isak mocks in an awful imitation of Even.

“What brought this on?” Even asks, choosing to ignore the display of immaturity.  It seems like Isak is trying to pick a fight, and frankly, he’s not up for it. “You were excited when I was getting my mark, and you've never said anything like this before.”

“Nothing happened,” Isak denies.

Even’s not buying it. “Is it something at home again?”

Isak’s face hardens, his lips pressing together. “Drop it, Even.”

“So it is something at home, then,” Even says knowingly.

“I said fucking drop it,” Isak snaps, turning to walk away, but Even grabs his wrist before he can.

“Talk to me,” Even begs. “If there’s something going on at home, I want to be able to help you.”

“It's nothing you can fix this time,” Isak yanks his arm back, but he doesn't make any move other than that. “I’m a big boy, and I can deal with it on my own.”

“You shouldn't have to, though. That's why I’m here.”

Isak’s shoulder slump in resignation, his head hanging. “Pappa left again,” he admits with a heavy sigh. “I think it’s for good this time.”

“Fuck,” Even breathes. “Are you sure he didn't have a business trip?”

“Who leaves their cell phone and empties their dresser when they're going on a business trip?” Isak laughs bitterly.. “Mamma’s crushed. She’s been having _visions_ again, and she won't take her medications—I’m going to have to take her to the hospital soon, I think.”

“Why didn't you tell me?” Even shakes his head slightly. “My family loves you, you know that. You could stay with us, or mamma and mor could try talking to her.”

“You're dealing with your own shit, you don't need mine too.”

“You've been helping me with all of my shit,” Even points out. “Last month, you spent the entire weekend in my room with me when I couldn't get out of bed after that bad episode.”

“That's different.”

“It’s exactly the same. Friendship is about sharing burdens.”

“It’s not as if this is a situation you can help with, anyways. The Fates didn't get it right with them.”

“Every relationship has its hardships, but if they're soulmates, they'll figure things out eventually.”

“They haven't figured it out in seventeen years. They're soulmates—you've seen their marks—but their relationship is fucking toxic.”

“The Fates know what they're doing, Isak. Have some trust in them.”

“Then why did their relationship turn out to be so fucked up?” Isak spreads his arms out wide. “If the Fates are so confident in choosing our life partners, then how did they mess up so badly with my parents?”

Even wishes he had an answer. He can only watch him with a sad expression, his lips parted uselessly.

“They've never gotten along. I don't even think they like one another.”

“I’m sure that's not true,” Even says, if only to try and somehow provide Isak with some sense of comfort. “They loved each other enough to have you and Lea.”

“You don't have to be in love to have sex. They've never been close like Sara and Emilie, or any other soulmates. I’m supposed to believe the Fates are going to pick a fucking incredible life partner for me, but what if I wind up stuck in a relationship like my parents?”

He’s never felt more useless. Isak is pouring his heart out to him, and he has no idea what to say. This is unchartered territory for him—he’s only ever known soulmates to be happy and loving with one another.

Even glances toward the grassy area behind Isak, his eyes drawn immediately to the dandelions scattered all about. He steps around him, carefully crouching down and picking one from the earth. He turns back to Isak when he’s done and moves closer, gently tucking the flower behind his ear.

“What’s that for?” Isak whispers. He mindlessly reaches up to touch the stem, his lips pursed.

“Have you ever heard of dandelion children?’ Even asks. He caresses the side of his face sweetly, thumb grazing his jawline.

Isak mutely shakes his head. He seems stunned from the touch, and Even _knows_ he should stop, but he can't bring himself to. Maybe it's a soulmate thing, or maybe he’s finally losing his restraint.

“They’re children who are resilient, like dandelions,” Even explains, trying to keep his voice steady. “They’re the ones who have survived rough upbringings, and continue to thrive anyways.”

“And you think that's me?” Isak’s voice remains quiet, his gaze unwavering.

Even’s thumb stills against his cheekbone. “I know that's you. You're the strongest person I've ever met, Isak.”

Time stops.

Even doesn't know if it's him or Isak leaning closer, but soon he can feel Isak’s hot breath against his freezing skin. Their foreheads rest together, noses brushing against one another, and their lips nearly connected.

Isak’s eyes flutter shut, and Even can't help but take a moment to marvel the way his lashes rest against his pink cheeks. He’s so fucking beautiful that it hurts, and he loses any willpower he had left.

He starts to tilt his head to kiss him, to finally satisfy the burning desire he’d suppressed for years—

Even’s phone interrupts them with its obnoxious ringtone.

The sound seems to snap Isak out of whatever trance he’d been in, as he quickly steps away. Isak brings a hand up to touch his lips, while Even frantically fishes his phone out of his pocket to shut it off.

INCOMING CALL: SONJA

He declines the call immediately, but the damage is already done. The air between them has changed, and Isak’s poorly attempting to conceal a crushed expression.

“You should answer that,” Isak mumbles, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “I have to go anyways. I’m supposed to be meeting Jonas to head to some party.”

“Isak, please wait—”

“I have to go,” Isak repeats, already starting to walk backwards. “I’ll text you or something.”

Before Even can attempt to convince him to stay, he turns around and starts to jog down the path. His phone continues to ring, like a mocking soundtrack to Isak’s fast exit.

“What?” Even answers the call, not bothering to mask his annoyance. It’s illogical to be angry with her, because the entire situation is his fault, not Sonja’s, but it’s far easier to blame her than it is to blame himself.

“Well, hello to you too,” Sonja says sarcastically.

“I’m not in the mood, Sonja,” he grits out. “What do you want?”

“I was calling to see if you'd send me your Norwegian notes from today, but now you've piqued my curiosity. Why are you all grumpy?”

“It’s nothing,” he mutters.

“Clearly it's something.”

“I had a fight with Isak. Or—not even a fight, just a weird moment with him,” Even relents, knowing that she would only continue to press him for answers. “We were talking about soulmates, and we almost… we almost kissed.”

“You were talking about soulmates? So he knows now?” Sonja asks. She sounds relieved, and it only adds to Even’s guilt. He was wrong to lie to begin with, but even more wrong in asking her to lie too.

“I didn't tell him yet,” he admits quietly.

“You need to tell him,” Sonja chastises. “I was fine playing along at first, but this is getting ridiculous. You're being an idiot.”

“I know that. I just—”

“You're scared.”

“I’m scared,” Even confirms, slowly continuing to walk along the trail.

“He's your best friend, Even,” Sonja reminds.

“Which is exactly why I don't want him to feel forced into anything. I don't want to tie him down before he's ready.”

“Have you seen the way that he looks at you? It’s not a _you're nothing but my platonic buddy_ look, Even. It’s a _take me to the bedroom and ravish me_ look.”

“Isak would never use the word ravish,” Even mumbles. His best friend is far too brash for such romanticized language.

“That's not the point and you know it.”

“I’m going to tell him,” Even clears his threat, adding a barely audible, “eventually.”

“If you're not careful, you'll wind up losing him forever,” Sonja warns.

That’s what he’s afraid of.

-

_vi. Summer, 2017_

The inside of his wrist burns.

Isak pushes the sleeve of his oversized sweatshirt up without opening his eyes. There had been a time in his life when he would stayed up all night waiting for his mark to appear, but now he dreads checking it.

His optimism for soulmates had vanished in the moment Even told him he was fated to Sonja.

_Fucking Sonja._

It’s not that Isak dislikes her as a person, because she's actually quite sweet, but she’s also Even’s soulmate, and that’s all it takes for him to resent her. He knows it’s irrational to feel so much jealousy for someone who has likely never paid him any sort of romantic thought, yet he can't help it.

He’s been pining over Even for years—since before he even knew what it meant to have a crush on someone. For as long as he can remember, he’s admired and adored him.

It’s odd, to finally have to face reality. Even is never going to be his. He’s going to look at his wrist and see who is soulmate is, and then he’ll have to figure out how to fall in love with them when his heart is already occupied.

Isak doesn't bother to lift his head from his pillow or sit up. He’s determined to approach this with a rip the bandaid off mentality, not giving himself time to feel pain.

He inhales, holds the breath in, and forces open his eyes.

**21:21**

His mark is identical to Even’s. Fate must have a pretty sick sense of humor to tease him like this.

For years, he’d hoped that Even would be his soulmate. Even was his first crush, his first love, and his first heartbreak wrapped up into one, and he’d spent so many nights laying in bed dreaming up their future together. (Two cats, a house in the suburbs, and a promise to renew their vows on their tenth anniversary.)

His wrist throbs, pulling him from his thoughts. He winces, his eyes trailing down to the small and—

It’s glowing.

He’s thinking of Even Bech Næsheim, and his mark is glowing.

At first, he thinks that he’s only seeing what he wants to see. He uses his left hand to rub both of his eyes, blinks hard, and finds no change.

It makes no sense. There’s no way that he and Even could have the same marks, and that his mark could glow from merely thinking about him, because Even already has a soulmate. Sonja.

Frantically, he yanks his duvet off and scrambles to pull his backpack up onto the bed. He takes his _Fates: Soulmates and Soul Marks_ textbook out, and flips through the pages.

_“Soulmates will have correlating marks—often identical—that appear on their eighteenth birthdays. A person will know they have found their soulmate if a.) their marks match, and b.) their mark glows when they think about the other person.”_

“He’s my soulmate,” Isak realizes. The words echo through his otherwise silent room.

He doesn't remember pulling on a sweatshirt or the walk to Even’s house. He’s filled to the brim with the rawest rage and hurt he’s ever felt—the sort of emotion that has him seeing flashes of white.

When he arrives, he pounds on the front door so hard that the skin of his knuckles splits open. Isak is oblivious to the pain and the small trail of crimson leaking down his forearm.

Even answers the door, and Isak knows from the resigned air about him that he’d been expecting this.

“Why the fuck didn't you tell me?” Isak seethes.

“Isak—”

“You lied to me,” Isak clenches his fists to resist the urge to do something he knows he’ll regret. “For two fucking years, you lied to me about the most important thing in our lives.”

“I didn't mean—I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I was protecting you,” Even says, his voice unsteady.

“Bullshit,” Isak spits. “Try again.”

“You were fifteen, what was I supposed to do?” Even asks, reaching toward him desperately. Isak steps back before Even can grab his hand, and Even’s shoulders slump. “People don't normally find their soulmate that young. I wanted you to be able to live your life without feeling trapped.”

“Right,” Isak laughs humorlessly. “You lied to me for my own benefit. It had nothing to do with you wanting to be with Sonja.”

Even’s face crumbles. “That's what you think?”

“I think you're an asshole.”

“I deserve that,” Even ducks his head down. He lets out a shaky breath, gripping the doorway tightly. “Shit—I’m sorry, Isak. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“You should have told me,” Isak’s voice breaks, but he doesn't allow himself to otherwise falter. “Do you have any idea how I felt that morning? I thought you were mine, and it broke my heart when you told me that you weren't.”

“I never wanted to hurt you,” Even whispers. It’s so cliche that Isak nearly laughs.

“Did you think I wouldn't find out? That the mark wouldn't glow because you didn't want it to?” Isak spits. The words taste like venom on his tongue.

“I didn't lie to be with Sonja,” Even says, lifting his head again. He meets Isak eyes as he continues. “I lied because I panicked. Before I knew that you were… that we’re soulmates... I never thought about you that way. I didn't have time process anything because you were right there, and my mouth moved ahead of my brain.”

“And that's supposed to be an excuse?”

“It’s not an excuse, I don't have one of those. I should have told you,” Even exhales. “I just started to think about what it would mean for you if I told you, and how that would change your life. I made a selfish decision, because I didn't want you to resent me. By the time I realized how badly I fucked up, I felt like it was too late to tell you, and now—”

“Now it’s two and a half years later,” Isak finishes, “and here we are.”

“Here we are,” Even repeats with a small nod.

“Does Sonja know?” Isak asks.

“She knows.”

Isak nods silently. His chest is still heaving, and he can feel his skin burning with residual anger, but he’s trying not to do anything too drastic.

“I know you're mad,” Even says hesitantly, “and you have every right to be. I’m furious with myself. But I hope—I hope I haven't wrecked things completely.”

“I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember, Even,” Isak laughs humorlessly. “I don't know that it’s possible for you to wreck things completely.”

It’s an odd feeling, putting that out there for the first time. For quite literally as long as he can remember, Even has been a permanent fixture in his life. He’s never had to truly experience life without Even, and frankly, he never wants to.

He’s angry—furious—but even that isn't enough to change his mind.

Isak is fucking whipped and he knows it.

“You—” Even’s eyes widen. “You're in love with me?”

“Seriously?” Isak stares at him blankly, trying to gauge whether or not he’s joking. “You didn't know? I thought I was obvious about it.”

“I didn't know,” Even says meekly. He looks pained now, as if the words have physically hurt him. “How long?”

Isak wets his lips. “I think from the moment you let me help you color your dinosaur drawing I was a little bit in love with you; but I realized it when I was thirteen.”

“Isn't that when your Jonas phase started?”

“You can't be that clueless, Even,” Isak gives him an exasperated look. “ _You_ were Jonas.”

Even looks genuinely shocked, and in spite of himself, Isak can already feel his anger starting to diminish. He glances down at his hand—stained by dried blood—and then looks back to Even.

“Can I come inside? And maybe borrow a bandage?”

Even steps aside, opening the door wider. “I’ll grab the first aid kit.”

Wordlessly, Isak moves inside. He follows Even to the kitchen, leaning back against the counter while Even riffles through the cupboards.

“Do you need to go the emergency room and make sure you didn't break it? What did you even do?” Even finally cuts through the silence, pulling the kit out. He makes his way across the room to Isak, setting it on the counter while he gets a good look at the damage.

“It’s not broken, it’s just a few cuts,” Isak clenches his fingers into a fist to try to prove his point, but ends up wincing. “I lost a fight with your front door.”

Even is clearly unconvinced, but most likely to avoid setting Isak off again, he doesn't push the matter. “It'll sting when I put the antiseptic on, but I’ll be gentle.”

Isak presses his lips together and nods. “Thanks.”

“You don't have to thank me,” Even says seriously, starting to tend to his battered hand. “I would do anything for you, Isak. Bandaging up your hand is nothing.”

Isak swallows. “You can't just say things like that.”

“Why not?” Even meets his gaze, and the passion burning in his eyes completely surprises Isak.

He hates himself for it, but he can already feel his resolve crumbling. It really is nearly impossible to stay mad at Even—especially given their history. His heart is betraying him, already drawing him right back to the man who had unnecessarily broken it not too long ago.

Love is dysfunctional like that.

“It makes it too fucking hard to stay mad at you,” Isak admits, his voice little more than a whisper. “I don't want to forgive you yet.”

“You don't have to,” Even raises his free hand, carefully cupping his cheek. “You can use this against me in every argument until we’re old and grey, as long as we get to be together until we’re old and grey.”

“That’s fair,” Isak murmurs, leaning into the touch in spite of himself. “I might need time to forgive you, but—we’re soulmates. That means a lot.”

“We have forever together,” Even offers up a wry smile. “I think we can spare a little bit of time to forgive and adjust.”

“Forever is a long fucking time,” Isak says. He’s not complaining, but it’s something that he had never quite thought about before.

“Yeah it is,” Even nods in agreement. He drops his hand, refocusing his attention on bandaging Isak’s hand again.

“I’m glad I get to spend it with you though,” Isak says softly.

Even’s gaze flicks upward again. “I’m glad I get to spend it with you too, Issy. There's no one I would rather spend it with.”

For once in his life, Isak doesn't think. He follows his heart and leans forward, allowing their lips to crash together.

They melt into one another, with Isak’s good hand moving up to cup the back of his neck, and Even’s settling on his sides. It’s passionate, electric, and every other stereotypical feeling that he hadn't known was real until that moment. Isak is certain that if perfection existed, it would be defined by moments like this.

When they eventually part, both of their chests are rising and falling rapidly. Even stares into his eyes for a moment, before his lips finally form a lopsided smirk.

“Did you just kiss me?” He asks.

“Yes,” Isak doesn't bother lying this time around. His mark burns, but even the pain can't soil this for him. “And I want to do it again.”

“Go ahead,” Even prompts, grinning.

Isak does.

-

_+1. Autumn, 2022_

“Do you realize how fucking extra this is?” Isak asks, blindly gesturing toward what he hopes is his face. “I get that you want to surprise me, but is the blindfold really necessary?”

“You never listen when I ask you not to peek,” Even steers him gently by his shoulders. “There's a step here, so try not to trip.”

“If I break a bone, you're going to become my nurse until I’ve healed,” Isak grumbles.

“Trust me,” Even says with a reassuring squeeze. “It's not too much farther anyways. We’re almost there.”

Isak rolls his tongue into his cheek, focusing on keeping his balance without actually being able to see where he’s going. He hasn't got the slightest idea of what’s happening—Even had only informed him a few hours ago during dinner that they were going out. When he’d inquired about where, Even had merely shaken his head.

“Here we go,” Even announces after a bit more walking. He halts, easing Isak to do the same, and then reaches up for the blindfold. “Are you ready?”

“I’m ready, just take the damn thing off already,” Isak says impatiently. Even laughs, carefully lifting the material up above his eyes.

The sign just a few feet in front of them reads _Norwegian Museum of Science and Technology._

He stares at the words for a few moments, before look at Even over his shoulder. “You do realize that the museum is closed, right?”

“It's closed to everyone else,” Even corrects, reaching for his hand. “I have a friend who is going to let us in.”

“Legally?” Isak asks warily.

“No,” Even glances around as if to make sure no one is around them, leaning closer. He lowers his voice to a whisper, “we’re going to use harnesses and lower ourselves inside from the roof like in those heist films.”

Isak’s eyes widen comically, and Even erupts into laughter. “I’m joking. I know the security guy, and his boss already approved of this. We’re good. Fuck, your face was priceless though.”

Isak smacks his arm lightly. “You're an asshole, you know that?”

“I can't help it when you're so gullible,” Even interlocks their fingers, starting to walk toward the entrance. “Honestly, baby, do you really think I would ever put you in danger?”

“No,” Isak admits, swinging their arms gently. “I know that you wouldn't.”

“See? You need to learn to have a little more faith in me.”

“I find it very hard to have faith in a man who wears socks with sandals,” Isak says with the most serious face that he can manage.

“Only around the house!” Even defends, guiding him up to the entrance where a security man was waiting to let them in.

Once they’re inside, Isak can't hold back a gasp. He feels like a giddy little kid, and above all, is beyond grateful that he has such a sweet, thoughtful soulmate. He really is the luckiest man in the world.

“Are you happy with your surprise?” Even asks, watching him closely.

“Fuck, yes,” Isak turns to him, his face lit up with pure joy.

They take their time wandering through the various exhibits, Isak captivated by each and every one. He’s in his element surrounded by all thing science, and it doesn't take long before his cheeks hurt from the permanent smile on his face.

“I’ve always wanted to come here,” he admits. “I used to beg mamma when I was younger, but we could never get here.”

“I know,” Even’s thumb grazes his knuckles.

“This is amazing, Even. Seriously,” Isak momentarily stops walking so that he can turn to really face him. “Thank you so much for doing this for me.”

“Don't start thanking me yet, we still have one more exhibit,” Even hums quietly, squeezing his hand. He pulls him toward an entrance on their left, already grinning. “I have a feeling it's going to be your favorite part, too.”

“I don't think it can get any better,” Isak says with a small laugh.

“Just wait,” Even says knowingly, just as they reach the end of the short corridor.

From the moment that they enter the planetarium, Isak is in awe.

The large screen is illuminated with a breathtaking image from outer space, with stars surrounding them from every side. He soaks the sight it in with parted lips and pink cheeks, stunned.

“Are you seeing this? It's fucking incredible,” Isak breathes. “I can't believe you did this for me.”

“Happy anniversary,” Even murmurs, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. He wraps his arms around him from behind, pulling him back against his chest.

“It’s not our anniversary,” Isak says with a confused smile. “Our anniversary is my birthday.”

“I’m not talking about that anniversary,” Even hooks his chin over his shoulder. “It’s the anniversary of the first time we met at that playgroup.”

Isak blinks. “Really?”

“Fifteen years,” Even moves his hands so that he’s holding his hips. “I spent three hours sifting through my mammas’ old paperwork to find out the exact date.”

“You're so cheesy,” Isak tilts his head, somehow managing to adjust them to an angle that allows him to give Even a chaste kiss. “I love you, though. This is—it’s amazing, and by far the best thing that anyone has ever done for me.”

“You mean this tops that time I took you for a late night swim?” Even teases.

“I think you mean that time you almost got us both arrested for breaking into someone’s home,” Isak tries to look serious, but winds up grinning from the memory.

Even hums playfully, nuzzling their noses together. “I would have taken the fall for you.”

“I really can't believe you did this,” Isak whispers. “This is so special.”

“You deserve it,” Even pulls him in even closer, “you deserve the world, Isak. If I can bring you the stars, I figure that's a decent enough start.”

“I love you,” Isak repeats, their lips brushing.

“I love you too. Now and forever.”

They kiss under the stars, their marks glowing brightly together on their wrists. It’s a beautiful thing.

 

**Author's Note:**

> feedback is always appreciated :)


End file.
